


Why Do You Hate Me So Much?

by oh_ms_omegalomaniac



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Bullying, M/M, Stuff, i feel really mean writing this, im not sure, patrick stutters and it's kinda cute, pete is a massive jerk, sort of a romance, um, violent stuff happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_ms_omegalomaniac/pseuds/oh_ms_omegalomaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bullying au where Pete is a massive jerk and Patrick is the shy kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel hella guilty for writing this, 'cause I've made Pete ridiculously mean but yeah. Sorry.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is only based on existing real people- it is a work of fiction and is about characters who resemble real people. Please don't harass any real people or friends/relatives of real people about shipping.

Patrick Stump hates Pete Wentz. 

He really, really does, with a fury usually unfelt by the quiet boy. Even Joe is slightly amazed by it. It's because Pete Wentz and his dumbass friends tease Patrick for being chubby and unco, and it's because Patrick is the short shy kid while Pete Wentz is the uber-popular jock who gets everything he wants. Why wouldn’t you hate a jerk like that?

A loud noise catches Patrick's attention as he's crouching at his locker and he looks up to see a face smirking down at him. 

"Stumpy! How good to see you!" 

The boy flicks his dark fringe out of his face, giving Patrick a full view of his brown eyes. 

Well, yippee. Pete Wentz has brown eyes. Patrick doesn't care. 

"L-leave me alone." 

Patrick hates his stutter almost as much as he hates Pete. Stupid tongue can't work properly and it's just another reason for the boys to pick on him. 

"Oh, but what fun is that, Stump? I wanted to talk to you! You're fun!" 

Patrick rolls his eyes. 

"S-sure." 

Wentz pouts sulkily for a few moments, then his face lights up. 

"Hey, Gabe, Brendon, Stump doesn't want to talk to me. How mean of him." 

Pete's friends, a massively tall dark haired boy and a grinning boy with brown hair, follow him pretty much everywhere. They're at his back now, leering down at Patrick with malicious grins on their faces.

"What are we going to do about that, Pete?" 

Faking deliberation, Pete pretends to reach a conclusion and grins at the speaker, Gabe. 

"Teach the little arsehole some respect." 

~~~

It's like something out of a bad 80s movie, Patrick thinks as he dabs with a paper towel at his now black eye. Popular guy picks on nerd because life is apparently worthless without someone to punch. 

He's supposed to be in Chem now but really, with the beating he took at break, he reckons he has a right to skip. Joe will cover for him. His 'friend with the fro' (as Patrick describes him to those who haven't had the pleasure of meeting Joe Trohman) took one look at Patrick's face outside the Science Blocks and pushed him towards the bathrooms. Good friend. 

Patrick sighs to himself and sits down heavily against the toilet wall, thankful for the coolness of the tiles. His head is pounding. He didn't even try to fight back as the boys pinned his arms behind his back and Pete hit him. 

He did, at first, but he's learnt it's better to just keep quiet. Less damage then- Wentz gets bored if his victims don't even try to struggle. 

Summoning the energy to stand, Patrick stares into the mirror in front him, quietly taking note of his features. Messy blonde hair. Baseball cap. Brown eyes, one squinting as a black bruise covers it. Crumpled tee advertising some band Patrick can't remember. Scuffed jeans. Battered sneakers. 

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" 

Patrick's heart sinks as he notices Pete's reflection next to his. 

"J-just checking the damage." 

He turns and starts to walk out of the bathroom before Wentz snatches the back of  
Patrick's shirt and drags him back. 

"Where do you think you're goi-" 

Patrick is sick of it. The jerk isn't so intimidating without his friends to back him up so Patrick explodes, releasing his held back rage at the boy. 

"What the h-hell do you want? Want to give me another black eye?! Well, I'm cool with that, but there's no one to pin my arms behind my back now!" 

Wentz raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to speak before Patrick cuts him off again. 

"Yeah, yeah, m-macho threats, blah blah, I don't friggan' care. What is your p-p-problem with me? What the h-hell did I ever do to you?!" 

The blonde teen has barely noticed that he's yelling until Pete takes a step back, looking suprised. 

"Woah, holy shit man, calm the fu-" 

"D-don't you dare t-tell me to calm down. Don't you dare." 

Patrick's voice is a whisper now and he glares at Wentz. 

"I'm asking you a s-simple question. What d-did I ever do to you."

Shrugging, the dark haired boy's lips curl into a ghost of a smile. 

"I dunno. You existed." 

Patrick dramatically facepalms. 

"Oh, c-can you be any more cliche? H-holy smokes, just leave me a-alone." 

He pushes past Wentz and manages to remain furious until he's out in the halls and realizing what he's just done. 

"Oh, man, I am so g-gonna g-get pounded at lunch." 

Pete Wentz stares into the bathroom mirror, the geeky kid's words stuck in his head.

"What did I ever do to you?!" 

He fiddles with his hair distractedly. Hot damn. He really didn't think Stumpy would have the guts to yell at him like that. Pete is torn between wishing he had given the kid another black eye and curious feelings of... regret? Guilt? 

He shakes his head, banishing the traitorous thoughts. Stump is a loser who is getting too big for his runners. He has to teach the little weirdo a lesson. 

~~~

"I'm alive. I raged at Pete Wentz two days ago in a b-bathroom and him and his arsehole friends haven't even tried to b-beat my head in. Hey, except for the usual comments of loser and unco f-fat kid, they've actually left me alone." 

Joe cracks a grin at Patrick's relief and they highfive.

"And there's the Halloween party tonight! I'm going as a gladiator." 

Patrick imagines his curly haired friend in roman garb and chuckles to himself.

"I'm gonna be Princess Peach." 

The other boys turn to laugh at Andy as he twirls, imitating the video game character. 

"B-beautiful. I was gonna dress up properly, b-but.." 

Joe  
raises his eyebrows. 

"But?" 

"B-but I accidentally set my costume on fire when I left the hot glue gun on." 

Laughter erupts and Patrick colours a little, embarrassed.

"Oh, shut up you g-guys. I'm just gonna wear contacts and be p-possessed." 

~~~

The room is packed and Patrick looks around nervously, Andy and Joe long gone. Andy got bored in the first ten minutes and went to go play Mario Cart with Josh, while Joe is chatting up a cute brunette dressed as a greek goddess near the drinks table. Patrick spots a ghost easily recognizable as Derek Sanders by his bare feet and rope bracelets and the two talk  
for a few minutes before Derek has to leave. 

Alone again. Maybe I should get some fresh air, Patrick thinks. The Wentz household, where the party is being held, is practically a mansion with woods surrounding it, so he could probably just chill out there for a while. 

"Hey, Trick! Like the costumes?" 

Gerard Way is in drag as a bride, gripping the tuxedo-clad Frank Iero. 

"L-love it, Gee!" 

"I know, right! Hey, gotta go, you have a good night! Hope you find yourself a hot groom!" 

Laughing, Patrick shushes his friend and waves goodbye as he walks outside. A lot of Stump's friends were gay, and Patrick could easily come out- his family would be cool with it- but he doesn't want to give Pete another weapon. 

The blonde boy is so lost in his thoughts that when someone wraps an arm around his neck he doesn't even cry out. A hard blow explodes against Patrick's temple and the last thing he remembers is muffled voices and being dragged away. 

~~~  
"Wake up, Stumpy!" 

Someone is slapping him and Patrick opens his eyes, groggy and confused. What the hell is going on? 

"Oh, wtf is wrong with his eyes?!" 

"They're contacts, dumbass." 

"Shut up, you two! He's awake!" 

Patrick's heart sinks as he focuses enough to identify his kidnappers- Pete, Brendon and Gabe. 

Frick. 

"W-what's going o-on?" 

His stutter always gets worse when he's nervous. 

"Not so tough now when you're outnumbered, hey?" 

Wentz is staring down at him and Patrick laughs despite his fear. 

"Oh, n-noes! D-drat, you've got me tied to a chair! Well, I think a-anyone would be less t-tough in this scenario." 

He has no idea where he's getting this bravery from. Brendon and Gabe gape at him for a few moments before Pete responds.

"Shut up, loser."   
"Was the k-kidnapping really n-necessary? You could've just b-bashed me in the woods instead of g-going to all this effort." 

"But what's the fun in that? Gabe, Brendon, go away for a bit. I'll call you when I'm done." 

The two jocks do everything but salute as they hurry out of the windowless room, locking it on their way out. Before Patrick can say anything Pete hits him across the face, making the chair wobble and almost tip over with the force of the blow. 

"This is what happens when you backchat me, Stump." 

Patrick closes his eyes and fights to keep the tears away. Another blow, this time to his stomach, winds the hurt boy and he gives up on keeping the tears back. 

"Crying, Stumpy? Sook. Take it like a man!"

The tears have blurred his vision and Patrick doesn't even see the fist smacking into his cheek. 

"S-stop. P-p-please." 

All he can hear is heavy breathing and Patrick braces himself for another hit. 

"No one hears about this, okay?! You fell." 

"As I d-do every week at school." 

A last bit of defiance slips out and Wentz kicks over the chair, landing Patrick helpless on the ground. The tears are coming hard and fast now and he has never been happier to hear footsteps travelling away from him. 

"Hey, Gabe, I'm done." 

"Um.. that's great Pete.." 

Gabe's voice is embarrassed and guilty on the other end of the phone call and Patrick strains his ears to hear it. 

"So, unlock the door already!" Pete is aggravated and fear drips through Patrick. Something is wrong. 

"I kinda maybe um lost the key." 

A loud thud is heard as Pete tosses his phone at the wall. He must go and pick it up because Patrick soon hears Gabe's voice again. 

"So sorry, bro. Look, we're gonna go get a new one tomorrow morning. We'll cover for you. Sorry again." 

Gabe hangs up and Pete yells in fury.

"Idiots!"

"M-minions stuffing up, h-hey?" 

He knows it's stupid to piss Pete off even more but Patrick can't stop the snarkiness.

"Maybe y-you should get some new help." 

Pete's foot connects with Patrick's gut and he's painfully winded. 

"This is all your fault!" 

How much more can the jerk hurt him, Patrick wonders. Probably a lot, but he doesn't care. His body is starting to go numb anyway. 

"I apologise for g-getting kn-knocked out by your dumbass friends a-and g-getting tied to a chair. R-really, I'm s-so s-sorry." 

Pete moves to kick him again before pausing, locking eyes with Patrick. Emotions pulse through him as he sees the wild, animal fear in Patrick's brown eyes and he stops, backing away slowly. What the fuck gives him the right to bash this kid up, anyway? 

Disgust at himself courses through Pete's veins and he reaches in his pocket for his swiss army knife, the one his grandfather gave him. Patrick begins to sob even more heavily, terrified as Pete moves towards him, but the dark haired boy just slashes through the ropes. 

Dragging himself backwards, Patrick makes himself as small a target as possible in the dark corner. "

P-p-please, just l-leave me a-alone. I'm s-sorry! I'm sorry!" 

Pete shakes his head in regret. The poor kid thinks he's going to get stabbed or something now. 

"I'm not going to hurt you." 

"A-anymore." 

The knife finds its way into Pete's pocket again and he raises his empty hands. 

"G-god, why d-do you hate me so m-much?!" 

Patrick's fear is consuming him and he dearly wishes he had just kept his mouth shut in the first place. Then he wouldn't be this hurt. He'd just be back at the stupid party, chilling by himself in a corner. 

The blonde boy rests his head on his knees and continues to cry, pain rushing through him. Everything hurts. The salty taste of blood is on his tongue. 

"I'm.. I'm sorry."

Patrick pauses to glare at Wentz, fear momentarily banished by anger. 

"D-doesn't change the f-fact that I'm g-gonna have a kaleidoscope of b-bruises t-tomorrow." 

Pete shrugs a little, guilt clouding his eyes, and Patrick turns away in disgust. Feels bad, does he? Like that helps anything. Slowly, painfully, Patrick begins to identify his hurt. Gut is hurting bad after a couple of blows. Face hurts like hell, maybe another black eye? It's still a struggle to breathe in after the chair fell. 

The two sit together in silence, at opposite corners for about an hour before Pete speaks  
up. 

"Are you okay?" 

"P-peachy." 

It's silent for a few minutes. 

"Do you want, like, a drink or something? We're in the cellar and there's grape juice and shit." 

Hatred and thirst battle inside Patrick and he grudgingly nods. 

"Yeah." 

He has to press down the cold fear when Pete walks slowly towards him, but it's only to hand him a glass.

"Here." 

The juice is cold and clear and Patrick closes his eyes for a moment, drowning his thirst. 

The room is quiet for a long period of time- two hours, Patrick guesses? It's Pete who talks again. 

"We're going to be stuck in here for another six hours for something. It's like 1am." 

Patrick nods soundlessly. Great. More one-on-one time with his tormentor. 

"Did you wanna like talk or anything?" 

A sigh escapes Patrick's lips and Wentz backtracks hurriedly, 

"or play Angry Birds?" 

"D-do you have any headphones?" 

Pete nods and passes them and the phone to Patrick, who inserts them in his ears and scrolls through the iPhone. He obviously finds something he likes because he closes his eyes, a smile finding it's way onto his face. 

Again, silence falls and Pete stares at Patrick. The blonde boy's eyes are still closed- one has swelled shut. Guilt finds Pete again. Anger and embarrassment had just overtaken him and now he's sitting in a cellar staring at his victim. 

After an hour or so Patrick's eyes open and Pete hurries to tear his away. Stump pulls the headphones out of his ears and slides them and the phone across the ground to Pete. 

"Out of battery." 

"Okay."

Fortified by the audio escape (Pete has a surprisingly good taste in music), Patrick finds the guts to speak up. He's almost one hundred percent sure that Pete isn't going to hit him again. Almost. 

"S-so why did you k-kidnap me anyway? Seems a-awfully elaborate f-for a b-bunch of jocks." 

Pete runs his hands through his hair and sighs regretfully. 

"You talked back and that pissed me off. Brendon thought it'd be funny and I wanted to scare you." 

Patrick shrugs. 

"O-okay. So why am I your f-favourite target anyway, W-Wentz?" 

It's now Pete's turn to shrug. 

"I guess you're just there. You're different, you stutter, you don't have many friends and look cute when you cry." 

Oh, shit, he wasn't supposed to say that. That's just fucked up. Really messed up. 

Patrick's eyebrows raise as Pete mentally berates himself.

"R-right." 

"Why don't you fight back?" 

The question slips out and the injured boy's face becomes cold. Pete senses that he's made a mistake. 

"B-because Pete Wentz likes a target that fights back. I-if I t-try to run or h-hit back you find it funny and keep landing b-blows. It's over qu-quicker if I just k-keep quiet and take it." 

The guilt hits Pete like a train and he finds that he can no longer look Patrick in the eye. 

"Oh." 

Patrick rubs his eyes with his fists and rests his head on his knees again. Pete closes his eyes. 

"I'm sorry. I know it doesn't change anything, but I've been a massive jerk and I just wish.. that I wasn't such an arsehole.” 

“Apology sort of accepted. I d-don’t- won’t- f-f-forgive you b-but..” 

Patrick is surprised by the apology. Pete could be lying, of course, but he seems sincere. 

“So. H-how are we g-going to spend the n-next few hours?” 

Shrugging, Pete cracks a hesitant smile. 

“I’ve made your life hell for the past year but I know nothing about you whatsoever. If you’re okay with it, could we like, talk?”

Patrick weighs up his options. He could have casual conversation with the bully who had abused him, or he could sit in silence for the next who-knows-how-many hours. Holy smokes, he wished Pete had charged his friggan phone. 

"F-fine." 

"What's your favourite colour?" 

Patrick raises his eyebrows. 

"R-really?"

Pete blushes. 

"Well, you think up a better question!"

"Okay, okay, b-blue. What d-do you do apart from b-bash people up and k-kidnap them?"

Pete winces.

"Um, I play bass and write stuff."

"T-that's kinda cool. I s-sing and play just a-about everything." 

"Oh, man! We should get together some time and-" 

He stops at the look on Patrick's face. The blonde boy's eyes are ridiculously sad and in that moment Pete just wants to hug him. Of course, Patrick would probably come to the conclusion that Pete was a liar and randomly decided tackling/strangling him, so he resists the urge. 

"I'm.. I'm going to try and sleep for a b-bit." 

Patrick slowly crawls away from Pete, back into his corner, and curls into a ball. Pete stares at him sadly for a few moments. 

"Goodnight, Patrick. I'm sorry."

The crumpled heap doesn't respond.

"Again."


	2. Chapter 2

He's not going to be able to go to sleep. Patrick knows that, has known that for the last hour or so, but he's not going to budge an inch from his curled position. Doing that could indicate to Pete that Patrick was in fact awake and wished to communicate again. 

Ha, no. 

Pete was... is... his tormentor and Patrick has the pain in his head and gut to prove it. Pete said he was sorry- he never said that he'd stop the abuse that Patrick copped every stupid day at school. 

"Patrick? Are you awake?" 

Pete's voice is hesitant and soft. Keeping his eyes closed, Patrick stays completely still. 

"Okay, I guess not." 

A scuffing sound is heard and slow footsteps pad towards Patrick. Holy smokes, holy smokes, not cool, what the hell is Pete doing? Patrick fights the urge to open his eyes. 

"Your eye looks nasty, god. I can't believe I did that." 

Light fingers brush against the blonde boy's face and Patrick shouts at Wentz in his head to get away, get your hands away from me.

"But I've done far worse, haven't I? I remember back in Year Nine when I broke your arm. Holy shit, bro. That was horrible. And you didn't even tell anyone! Gabe and Brendon and I totally thought you were gonna finally let someone know but no, you kept so quiet. I guess that was another reason why you were my favourite target." 

And because you're a total friggan sadist! Patrick has to bite his tongue not to scream the words. He thinks back to Pete's earlier words and has to fight a shiver. 

'You look cute when you cry.'

"You need to tell someone about this, Stump. Don't you dare keep quiet, kay? I hope you tell them all and I get expelled or something because all I am is this stupid worthless cowardly monster that can't control his anger and-" 

Pete's voice cracks and Patrick feels a tear drip onto his cheek. Well then. Bully is having an emotional breakdown. Oh noes. 

"I kept giving myself these bullshit excuses, yknow? I would tell myself you deserved it, that I had to or I'd look like a weakling, that it was just harmless teasing.." 

His voice trails off. 

"Bipolar, yknow? It’s not an excuse for anything, not an excuse for any of this, but it’s the excuse I give myself. You probably don’t know what it is, hey." 

Yeah, Patrick does know.

Mental illness-y thing. Mood swings. Depression. Pete sighs. 

"How can you sleep? Guess I could have given you a concussion or something. Shit, what if I did? What if you're never gonna wake up?!" 

Voice rising in hysteria, Pete must get up or something because his footsteps begin to pace. Patrick sighs a little to himself. The jerk is gonna freak himself into a meltdown or whatever. 

"Holy smokes, I'm n-not even sleeping. C-can you like n-not touch my face? It's s-seriously creepy."

Patrick drags himself into a sitting position, his body aching. 

"Wait. You were awake for all of that?" 

Nodding, Patrick sees the look of fear in Pete's eyes and subtly pulls himself backwards away from the dark haired teen. Oh, man, should've kept my big mouth shut and kept still, he thinks. Wentz is going to bash him again now. Or use that knife. 

"I'm s-sorry I'm s-sorry I won't-" 

"No, no, it's okay, I don't care, you can tell the world if you want- I pretty much deserve it.." 

Pete stops when he realises Patrick is trembling in fear. 

"Oh, fuck. You think I'm going to hit you or... something to make you keep quiet." 

The other boy’s eyes dart to Pete's pocket in response and Pete's heart feels like lead as it sinks. 

"I'm not going to cut you. I was never going to stab you or anything like that. It's just my thing, see? I carry it around because my pa gave it to me." 

Taking the knife out, Pete gets up and hands it to Patrick, wincing when Patrick shies away in fear. 

"You can stab me if it makes you feel better." 

Patrick gives a tremulous smile and slips the knife into the pocket of his jeans. 

"O-okay." 

"I wonder what time it is. Gabe and Brendon are gonna get us out of here in the morning." 

 

They sit in an almost peaceful silence for a few minutes before Patrick speaks up hesitantly. 

"W-what's going t-to happen when w-we do g-g-get out? Will.." 

He leaves the words hanging in the air. 

"I.. I don't really know."

Pete tries for a smile and is pleased when Patrick's mouth quirks a little in return. 

"What's your family going to say when they see.. those?" 

Following the bully's gaze, the blonde boy stares down at his bruised body. He can feel the bruises covering his ribs and stomach, the sores on his back from the chair falling, black eye throbbing on his face. 

"I fell down the stairs b-because I was d-drunk. Y-you let me stay overnight." 

"You can't keep doing that, making excuses, protecting those who hurt you." 

Concern is a weird emotion on Pete Wentz's face, Patrick thinks. And it's not even concern for himself. 

"W-why not?" 

"Because that's not fair! You're protecting me, dammit, I don't deserve it! Patrick Stump, the only thing I deserve is hell and karma and..." 

Pete has begun to yell and he hates himself more than possible when he sees Patrick's eyes open wide in fear. 

"I'm sorry, I just..." 

He can't even finish a stupid coherent sentence anymore, not with those wide eye browns staring up at him. 

"Don't you want me to be punished? Don't you want to get revenge on the arsehole that has made you his personal fucking punching bag?!" 

"N-no." 

Is he trying to protect himself, wonders Pete. Does he think I’m going to hurt him more? The thought makes Pete want to hit his head against the cellar wall numerous times. Arsehole, jerk, bully, stupid, stupid, stupid…

"Don't you hate me?" 

Patrick shrugs and answers as honestly as he can. Really, he’s not perfectly sure. Before tonight, he was convinced Pete Wentz was the worst person on earth, someone to hate. But now, after all that’s happened…

"I-I'm afraid of you and I resent you for h-h-hurting me so much. B-but mostly I.. I feel s-sorry for you." 

Words have escaped Pete. He's almost thankful for the key in the door and Brendon's voice.

"Pete! We’re so fucking sorry, bro, it was a total accident!" 

Gabe and Brendon race down the cellar stairs, both looking exhausted and very guilty. 

"All good guys. See you at school on Monday?" 

The pair nod and wave a hasty goodbye, not giving the blonde boy slumped against the wall a single glance. 

"Um.. do you like need a hand?" 

Patrick shakes his head as he pulls himself up, grimacing as he does so. 

"Are you going to be okay going up the stairs?" 

The expression on Patrick’s face of utter defeat. 

"No."

Ten very awkward minutes and a fair amount of apologies from Pete later, the two are in Pete's family's spacious kitchen. Patrick semi-collapses into a stool at the bench. 

"Do you want some water? Food?" 

"E-ever the gracious host, Wentz... c-can I please have b-both and maybe some ice?" 

Happy for an excuse to get away from the other boy, Pete turns away and busies himself with making toast. 

The sigh of relief from Patrick when he presses the cold pack to his cheek hits Wentz hard and for a moment he freezes, toast forgotten. What the hell is wrong with me, Pete wonders. Why am I such a terrible person?

"Uh, I think the t-toast is b-burning?" 

Patrick's laugh is so much sweeter and Pete can't help but grin as he peers down at the bread. Blackened. Damn. 

"Oh, fuck it. I can't even cook toast. Is cereal okay?"

"Cereal would b-be great."

 

They sit side by side at the stone bench, chowing down Ricebubbles and making hesitant conversation. 

"Where are you p-parents? Aren't they g-gonna be a little freaked about the s-stranger in their kitchen?"

"Nah, I have people over all the time, it’s practically normal. They’ll be up soon.”

“O-okay, cool.”

“Is anyone, like, worried about you? Do you want to call someone?”

Patrick shrugs. 

“M-my parents don’t really c-care what I get up to. They p-probably think I’m at J-Joe’s. D-do you mind if I call him?”

“Sure.”

Pete passes a phone to the blonde boy and Patrick dials. He knows Joe’s number off by heart, of course. He and Joe have been close friends for as long as Stump can remember.

The phone rings twice before Joe picks up.

“Trohman Pizza Delivery, service with a fro! Who dis be?”

“Um, h-hey Joe, it’s Patrick.”

Something breaks in the background and Patrick winces. Joe is almost as clumsy as him.

“Patrick where the hell did you go last night?! I thought Andy took you home and Andy thought I did and we were freaking the hell out anyway I met this hella cute girl and I think we’re dating I dunno she gave me her number and she’s adorable but seriously where are you?”

“T-take a breath, Joe.”

“Oh, whatever. So, details..?”

“Um…” 

Patrick shoots a sidewards glance at Pete. The dark haired boy shrugs and smiles sadly. 

“W-well, Wentz and his m-minions kind of kidnapped me and then locked the t-two of us in a cellar b-by accident.”

The line is silent for a moment before Joe explodes.

“I’m going to murder that arsehole. How fucking dare he?! You have to tell someone about him, Trick! One day him and his dumbass friends are going to kill you, I swear. One of their stupid pranks like this will go wrong and..”

Trailing off, Joe sighs.

“How bad did they hurt you this time?” 

“C-couple of hits in the g-gut, face smacked a few t-times, bruising on my back.”

“Thank the Lord it’s not worse! When you said they kidnapped you, for fucks sake, I thought you’d be half dead by the end of it. Where are you now? Can I pick you up? Do you want me to smash a guitar in Wentz’s stupid face?” 

Laughter erupts from Patrick and his face splits into a grin. 

“I-I’m eating cereal in his k-kitchen. C-can you come get me soon? And d-don’t hurt any of your beautiful guitars.”

“In his kitchen?! What the holy fu- okay, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes. Stay friggan’ safe and please, please, don’t let him hurt you. Stab the fucker with your spoon to keep him away if you have to.” 

The grin on Patrick’s face has not gone anywhere as he hangs up. Pete’s face, on the other hand, is so, so sad. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” 

 

Exactly eighteen minutes later, a car is in the driveway and Joe Trohman is banging on the door of the Wentz household. 

“Patrick?!”

Pete answers the door and Joe freezes, fury in his eyes. 

“Where the fuck is Patrick.”

At the sound of Joe’s voice Patrick makes his way to the door, icepack still pressed against his eye. His face splits into a smile when he sees his friend. 

“Hey, Joe!”

Pete is pushed aside roughly as Joe moves to embrace his friend. 

“Are you okay? Let’s get the hell out of here.” 

“I’m f-fine, Joe, you know they’ve d-done worse.”

“They never fucking kidnapped you before, did they?!”

Patrick shrugs. Satisfied that his friend is somewhere near the realm of okay, Joe turns his gaze on Wentz. 

"Why can't you just leave him alone?"

Joe's voice is fiery, protective, and Pete is surprised by the anger in it. He had always written the kid off as a bit of a druggie nerd, no one special, no one with any sort of flame burning inside them. But now, faced with Joe staring down at him, Pete mentally berates himself. 

"Do you want to go now, Trick?" 

Patrick nods, emotions Pete can't quite read dancing in his eyes. 

"D-did you want this back?"

The swiss army knife is in the blonde boy's hand and he holds it out to Pete nervously. 

"No, please keep it." 

"B-b-but it's yours-" 

"I want you to have it, if that's okay." 

Joe looks between the two of them suspiciously, confused by the exchange. 

"Okay, what's going on. Why have you got a knife, Trick?" 

"C-can I get another b-bowl of c-cereal while you explain?" 

Surprised by the request, Pete smiles and nods. 

"Sure. Top right cupboard." 

Patrick leaves the two boys alone in the narrow hallway as he wanders away, whistling a little. The panadol may have gone to his head. This thought makes Pete smile before he remembers the teen in front of him. 

"Uh, come in and sit down?" 

Joe narrows his eyes at Pete. 

"If this is some sort of fucking prank.." 

They sit at the kitchen bench next to Patrick. Joe takes the seat next to the injured boy, eyes daring Pete to challenge him.

"So..?"

"Well, it's my knife-" 

"Figured as much." 

"Joe, he's n-not going to get very far if y-you butt in." 

"Oh, whatever Patrick." 

"Anyway, it's sort of my good luck charm. I guess I kinda keep it with me a lot because my grandfather gave it to me. So, Gabe and Brendon have knocked out Patrick," 

Joe's face is furious but he keeps quiet for Patrick,

"and we drag him into the cellar, tying him to a chair. When he wakes up the other boys leave and I.. I hit him a bit, shout at him, slap him. Gabe calls me to say they've lost the cellar keys, that they'll have a new set made asap, and Stump makes a few comments. I lose my temper and push the chair he's tied to over, kick him in the guts and am about to keep hitting him when the... the fear in his eyes makes me stop. Not just fear, terror and pain and-" 

Patrick stops eating and brings his knees to his chest. It was bad enough experiencing all this first time around; he hates hearing about it now.

"I cut his ropes with the knife but Patrick.. Patrick thinks I'm just going to hurt him more. Anyway, we sit there for a while, talk a little before I say something stupid. We stop and he tries to sleep and I think he's asleep so I say some stuff, apologies, some other stuff... turns out he was awake the whole time." 

Patrick interrupts. He wants to tell a little of his side. 

"Some of the stuff he told me was personal and when he found out I was faking sleep I thought he was going to bash me again or cut me and I kinda freaked. So Pete gives me the knife, right, as a sort of peace offering I guess. To show that he's not going to hurt me again. Probably." 

The dark haired boy winces at Patrick's doubt in him, even if he does deserve it. 

"You're a monster, you know that? What the hell is even wrong with you, Wentz?" 

Joe's words don't surprise Wentz and he nods. 

"I know. I'm a terrible excuse for a human being who can't control their anger." 

Slightly satisfied with that answer, Joe nods and stands up. 

"C'mon Trick, we're getting out of here. I know I can't fight off Gabe or Brendon at school, and that I'm the worst friend ever for ditching you last night, but this asshole is not getting near you again. He's gone too far." 

On impulse Patrick hugs the seething boy and smiles sadly. 

"It's not your fault. Let's go. Bye, Wentz."

A strange sense of loss washes over Pete as the pair walk away, neither giving him a backward glance.


	3. Chapter 3

It's late Sunday evening and a blonde teenager is pacing in his bedroom, the cd playing in the background doing little to relax him. He's nervous and to be honest, scared. But mostly confused. His thoughts are scattered, questions sitting unanswered in his head. 

What is going to happen the next day at school? 

Will the weekend's events have any influence on the usual hell he walks into every Monday? 

~~~

"Hey, Patrick!" 

At the sound of his name Patrick spins around to see Joe smiling at him. 

"'Lo Joe." 

"How are you going? Your eye is looking a lot better, thank god." 

"Yeah, I'm o-okay, bit sore." 

The two continue to chat as they make their way through the crowded corridors, Joe subtly guarding Patrick against stray school bags and elbows. He knows he can't protect Patrick from Wentz or the other jerks but he'll do all he can. The teen is worried- they've always targeted his friend when the two of them were separated by classes or different lunch times or whatever. Joe just hopes Wentz stays away. 

No such luck. 

Patrick is walking to Geography (one of many lessons he has with Wentz) when the dark haired boy appears next to him. 

"Sup Stump!" 

His friends are curiously absent as Pete bounces alongside Patrick on the balls of his feet. 

"U-um... hey?" 

 

Friendly, Pete thinks to himself. Talk to the kid and let him know you're not going to hit him. Be nice. Patrick's response throws some sense at Pete at and he mentally face palms. Stupid. He's abused the boy for so long and he can't just assume Patrick will want to be friends. Friends! Who is he kidding?

"W-hat do you w-want?" 

See, the voice in his head yells. He's afraid of you and you're just making it worse! 

"Um, nothing. Are you... um... feeling better?" 

The blonde boy shrugs. 

"Not r-really." 

Pete really doesn't know what to say to that so they walk the last few metres to class in silence. As usual, Pete has a place in the back saved for him by his mates and Patrick sits awkwardly up the front next to some redhead chick Pete doesn't know. The two of them must at least sort of be friends because they exchange greetings and begin working together quietly. 

"Sup, Pete." 

Gabe and Brendon lounge at their desks, the picture of bored teenagers. A few minutes after Pete has sat down, the grumpy old Geography teacher takes the roll and gives the class some textbook questions. 

Ugh. 

Quickly sick of the monotonous work, the trio take to throwing bits of an old eraser at the other members of the class. Gabe chucks a scrap with scary accuracy and it bounces off Patrick's head. He doesn't even turn around. Pete sighs inwardly. Why didn't he realise how stupid this all is earlier? So stupid, so stupid. 

The class is thankfully over before Brendon and Gabe start throwing scissors (they've done it before and were debating amusing themselves by doing it again). Pete is first out of the classroom when the bell sounds. 

"Thank god that's over! Hey, Pete, what are we going to do at lunch?" 

Gabe is spinning a pair of scissors on his finger as he asks Pete. Pete has never really noticed how much he commanded these two but it's so obvious now, the way they wait for his answer with expectant eyes. 

"Let's sneak into the music room and play something after we get food. I want to show you guys this riff I made up." 

Brendon and Gabe nod happily and the trio poke fun at each other over their various musical skills (or lack thereof) on the way to the cafeteria. 

 

Silently thanking whatever higher power watching over him, Patrick bids Hayley goodbye and makes his way to his locker. Apart from the usual annoyance of getting random crap thrown at him, Pete and his minions left him alone the entire period. 

Patrick thought he was dead for sure the minute the dark-haired boy found him on the way to class. Maybe Wentz will actually leave him alone? Maybe the beatings and taunts will stop and- 

His hopeful thoughts are interrupted and quashed by the foot that trips him. Clumsy enough without the help of bullies, Patrick falls to the ground and stays there for a few moments, his bruises aching. A Doc Martin shoe collides with him and pain shoots through the blonde boy's ribs as laughter surronds him. 

Great. 

Pete. 

Lucky for him the boys seem to be going somewhere and by the time Patrick drags himself off the ground they are long gone. He catches a glimpse of Wentz' shoes before they turn the corner- he's wearing bright purple Converse. Huh. That's a little odd. Pete is usually the one who will hit him- Patrick can count on one hand the amount of times Gabe and  
Brendon have done anything other than hold him back and yell taunts. 

Pushing the thought aside, Patrick hurries to the cafeteria to find Joe and Andy at their regular table. Joe has gotten Patrick a tray loaded with fries and beef casserole and Patrick almost melts in gratitude. Now he won’t have to endure the ten minute wait to get food. 

"H-holy smokes, thanks Joe." 

The curly-haired boy shrugs and smiles as he shoves a mouthful of fries in his mouth. "No problem." 

Sitting down at the table, Patrick's body complains and Andy looks up from his lunch (organic, vegan) in concern. Patrick swears his friend is psychic sometimes. 

"You kay?" "Yeah, Gabe tripped m-me on the way h-here. J-jerks were throwing erasers at me a-all lesson." 

The two groan in sympathy. 

"Anyway, d-did that g-girl you met Friday night text you b-back yet?"

Delighted for an opportunity to tell his friends about his new girlfriend, Joe launches into an animated description of Marie. Patrick tunes out a little, getting lost in the questions that are pounding in his head. Is Pete going to leave him alone? If so, will Gabe and Brendon just take over bullying him? And why the hell did he get happy butterflies- not nervous, fearful butterflies- but happy butterflies in his stomach when Pete spoke to him? Pete is a bully. A jerk. 

"So, you busy tonight, Trick?" 

"Hm, w-what?" 

Joe and Andy are staring at Patrick expectantly and he colours. 

"I h-have a Geography assignment, s-sorry." 

Melodramatically, Joe wipes his forehead as if clearing away sweat and grins. 

"Since you obviously weren't listening, Andy and I are taking Marie and the girl Andy met playing MarioKart out bowling tonight. Didn't think you'd want to third wheel it..." 

Patrick flashes the two a quick smile as the bell goes and they walk together to their lockers. 

"So, when are you going to get boyf-" 

"Sh!" 

The blonde boy horridly shushes his friend and Joe mouths an apology as they watch Wentz stroll past with his friends. Andy watches the exchange silently and once the trio is out of earshot, quietly continues Joe's question. 

"Are you going to get a boyfriend anytime soon?" 

Shrugging, Patrick begins to search through his locker for sheet music. He's got music next- with Joe and Andy thankfully, but also with Wentz, Brendon and Gabe. 

"Any crushes, at least?" 

Joe grins at Patrick as the blonde begins to blush. 

"U-uh, um.." 

The walk to music class sees Joe and Andy interrogating a stubbornly cryptic Patrick. 

"I'm n-not even sure it is a c-crush. I j-just get these stupid b-butterflies when I talk to h-him.." 

"Quiet, class!" 

Ms Yao is standing at the front of the music room asking for the attention of the students.  
Immediately the small class settles down and quietens- they all have a lot of respect for the teacher. Joe, Patrick and Andy joke that she can play everything- she taught Patrick himself double bass in the lunchtimes when he kept returning to the music room for refuge from Pete. 

"Prac lesson today. Patrick, do you want to try trumpet with me?" 

Music is what Patrick is good at. His best instrument is his incredible voice, of course, but he shifts between trumpet, double bass, saxophone and flute in lessons.

Pete surveys the class from his space at the back with his bass. Hurley on drums. Joe, Frank and the Farro brothers on guitar. Him and Gerard Way's little brother on bass. Gerard himself on vocals with the red head from Geography. Brendon plays piano. Gabe and Josh Dun play sax. The new girl with the constantly changing hair colour and Vicky on flutes. Toro plays trombone and these two goth kids Pete never really got to know play violin. Tyler plays the ukelele. 

And then there's Patrick, running around the band, a trumpet in one hand and sheet music in the other. Ms Yao loves to sit back and let the stuttering boy run the class- he does most of the arranging of the music. 

Him and the talented teacher play whatever sounds best in whatever song they're playing- the most recent being 'Impossible' by some guy off one of those TV talent shows. Patrick must have finished whatever he is doing because he sits down in his chair, a little out of breath, and nods at Andy to start. The teen clicks his drumsticks together and they begin. 

"I remember years ago, someone told me I should take caution when it comes to love, I did." 

Gerard begins the song with his low, quiet vocals. For those few lines it's only him and  
Brendon playing- and although the two have no love lost between them- Way's voice and Brendon's tapered fingers work together in perfect, lonely 

"But you were strong and I was not, my illusion, my mistake. I was careless, I forgot, I did." 

The bass kicks in now and Pete's hands work apart from his mind. He's played this song so many times now that the low, throbbing beat of his bass is created on autopilot. Hurley begins to hit the bass drum and the violins quietly start to play. 

"Now, that you're gone there is nothing to say, oh you have gone oh so effortlessly! You have won you can go ahead- tell them!" 

The band rises in a crescendo and the chorus is here- with it the guitars, flutes, trumpet, saxes, ukelele and the female singer's voice. Hayley, he remembers her name is. The tiny girl stands with Gerard, hair coloured a matching bright red to his and eyes on each other. 

In this moment, nothing outside of this space exists for Pete. All that he can think of is the hurt, despondent voices of the singers and the desperately sad lyrics. 

"So tell them all I know now. Shout it from the rooftops, write it on the skyline- all we had is gone now! Tell them I was happy and my heart is broken. All my scars are open. Tell them what I hoped would be impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible." 

The singers hold the last 'impossible' before trailing off dejectedly. Hayley now sings a verse, her incredible voice filling the room. 

"Falling out of love is hard- falling for betrayal is worse! Broken hearts and broken verses, I know, I know! Thinking all you need is there, broken promises beware. Broken trust and broken hearts- I know, I know!" 

Again the band rises in volume and Gerard's voice joins Hayley's becoming almost a sob. 

"Now, you have gone there is nothing to say. So if you're done with embarassing me! You have won you can go ahead, tell them!" 

The chorus swells but Pete has dragged himself away from the song and its grief. Instead, his eyes are on Patrick. The blonde boy has stopped playing for a moment and is mouthing the words. His eyes are so impossibly, ridiculously sad and a stab of guilt hits Pete. He's a monster. Why had he never noticed that his favourite target was a human being? Just a kid, really.

"Impossible." 

Gerard and Hayley's last word brings the song to a close and the spell over the class is broken. Pete is torn from his thoughts. He stands up awkwardly, laying his bass on the ground, and tells Ms Yao where he is going before walking out of the classroom. He needs to clear his head. 

The bathroom is, he realizes, the same one in which Patrick confronted him in last week. Pete takes Patrick's position, slumped against the cold tiles of the walls, and closes his eyes. Silence. 

Broken by quiet footsteps and a hesitant voice calling his name. 

"Wentz?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Wentz?" 

Patrick's voice startles Pete and when he looks up sharply, Patrick begins apologising. 

"S-sorry, I'll leave-"

"No, no it's okay." 

The blond boy has begun to walk away but at Pete's words he stops. Slowly, hesitantly, he picks his way over to the bully and sits down awkwardly beside him, making sure to put a good distance between them. Patrick's eyes are wary but Pete thinks he can detect the smallest hint of a smile in them.

"Are y-you okay?" 

Such a simple question. But one Pete isn't used to. 

'I can't recall the last time someone asked me how I was. Last I checked I was a fucking wreck- I called for help and no one showed up.' 

The lyric spins in his head now as the boy in front of Pete waits patiently for an answer. 

"Not really." 

"O-okay." 

The bathroom is quiet, peaceful for a few minutes before Patrick speaks up again. 

"The b-band's sounding good, isn't i-it?" 

So thankful for an easy topic to talk about, Pete grins. 

"Hell yeah. Impossible is probably our best song, you've done such a good job of making everyone get their shit together." 

Patrick's blush and shy smile is possibly the best thing Pete's seen all day. All week. 

"Thanks. I'm not sure about our next song- I've been tossing up between this one Ariel suggested and something I wrote." 

Ariel, the new kid, Pete realises. He thinks he senses something in Patrick's voice when he says the girls name and a stupid pang of jealousy hits him. What, so now he gets jealous when the guy who he made life hell for mentions some chick? 

"She's cute. You guys could totally date!" 

Patrick makes the most ridiculously disgusted face and Pete can't help but laugh. After a moment the blond joins him and for a minute or so they laugh together. 

"Ha, l-like that's g-gonna happen. She's n-not my type." 

"And what is your type, Patrick?" 

"Uh. Yeah. Um. Yknow." 

Patrick blushes and Pete can't help but notice how adorable it is. He's not one of those people who's entire face turns into a tomato, instead, there's just a cute dark pink flush on his cheeks. 

"What's your t-type, Wentz?" 

"Oh, blondes, of course. Blondes or redheads. Dark eyes. Can't really find someone shorter than me, so I don't care about height... yeah. Helps if they're musical." 

The blond's grin lights up his face and maybe he misreads the signals, but Pete thinks he can see something in the boy's eyes. Well, Pete thinks to himself. Do it now or you'll lose your courage. And so he leans over and presses his lips against Patrick's. The blond lets out a surprised (and slightly muffled sound) and Pete pulls back quickly at the shock in his eyes. Oops. That was probably a mistake. Stupid, hasty, jumping to conclusions, stupid, stupid, stupid! 

"I'm sorry I just-" 

The shocked look on Patrick's face is far too much for Pete and so he runs away like the cowardly bully he is. Self hatred and terrible thoughts run through the dark haired boy's mind as he runs. First he bashes the kid too many times to remember, then practically molests him! Why can't he just leave Patrick alone?! Why can't he just get the hell out of the kid's life and stop thinking about those eyes and the most adorable blush and- 

~~~

Um. 

What the hell was that, Patrick wonders. 

Woah.

Pete Wentz just kissed him in a bathroom, then apologized, looked like he was about to cry and then ran away. Um. His mind can't really form a coherent thought right  
now because the memory of those lips on his for what seemed like centuries and then broken, breaking away, stuttered apologies (hey, that was his thing!) and gone. 

Um. 

Pete's not back in the classroom when Patrick gets back- he's not surprised. Joe immediately notices the blond's blush and darts over, a huge grin on his face. 

"Aha! Blushing! What's up with you, Trick?" 

Still so slow, Patrick's brain struggles to find a response. 

"Um.. tell you a-after school?" 

Joe nods, interested now, and the rest of the music lesson passes with no return of Pete. Patrick still doesn't know what to think as he walks home with Joe, the curly-haired boy practically begging to be told what's going on. 

"Please, Trick, tell me! Tell me tell me tell me!" 

Joe can sound far too much like an indignant four year old when he wants. It's kind of scary. 

"Uh-um... if someone y-you used to h-hate but now aren't sure about k-kissed you unexpectedly, w-what would you d-do?" 

Trohman's laughter is loud and hearty and he claps a hand onto Patrick's shoulder. 

"I would go find them and kiss them again, thank you very much! So who is this mystery guy anyway?"

"Um, Pete Wentz."

The look in Joe's eyes scares Patrick a little and the pair stop walking. 

"You're kidding, right. Oh, no. Please tell me you're joking. Not funny Patrick. Oh, fuck. You're not kidding." 

"Um..."

"You could totally sue him for sexual assault if you wanted. Like, you should. That's just creepy. The hitting was cruel and mean, but forcing a kiss on you?! Messed up. Oh, no. Don't give me that fucking look. You're not serious. Please tell me you- oh for god's sake." 

A vaguely hysterical smile has appeared on Joe's face as he stares at Patrick disbelievingly. Patrick manages a smile. 

"He's a good k-kisser." 

The pair continue to walk as Joe alternates between begging for details, debating creative ways to murder Pete Wentz and lecturing Patrick. 

"I h-haven't even figured it out m-myself yet, Joe. I used t-to hate him b-but now... yeah." 

~~~

"I fucked up, Ryan, I fucked up!" 

Pete is banging on the door of an apartment, shouting at the top of his lungs. Ryan has his stupid Beatles up far too loud and Pete is on the verge of either breaking down crying or punching a hole in the door when his friend's fluffy brown head pokes out. 

"Pete?"

"Ryan! For fucks sake, I've been waiting for ages! Bro, I messed up. I screwed up so bad. I need your help." 

Ryan nods slowly, slightly confused but always happy to help Wentz out. And gosh, has he had to help Wentz out! Emotional support, a literal shoulder to cry on, supplier of booze when Pete gets sick of being sober... 

"Ok, ok, tell me what happened." 

Ryan has Pete's head in his lap and is dutifully stroking his hair while the tears flow. 

"I kissed him! I had a moment of absolute and utter fucking stupidity and I kissed him! On the lips! In a bathroom!" 

"With the candlestick!" 

His attempt at humor is obviously not desired- Pete hits his friend softly. 

"Meanie. What's wrong with me, RyRo?" 

"Nothing, sweetie. You're just a bit of an asshole bully who's falling-" 

"fallen." 

"Okay, fallen in love with his victim. So, you kissed him. His reaction?" 

The dark haired boy flushes and closes his eyes. 

"I don't even know. When I started to run he was just staring at me with the most shocked look on his face and-" 

"Okay, calm down. You haven't gotten a call from the police or the school yet, right?" 

Pete looks up at his friend, confused. 

"Uh, no..."

"That's good, I guess? He's not laying charges?" 

Pete groans. Oh, why is he so stupid? Ryan's failing attempt to calm Pete down is interrupted by the ringtone of Pete's phone. 

"Ah. Shit. Do I pick up?" 

"Yes, duh." 

Bracing himself, Pete glimpses quickly at the screen. Unknown number. Crap. He accepts the call and flicks it onto speakerphone quickly. 

"Hello?" 

"Wentz! I swear to fucking god, I am going to murder you some day. And leave your fucking body in a ditch on the side of the road, right?" 

"Um.. who is this?" 

The voice on the line in near-incomprehensible with rage.

"Joe Troh, hell with a fro. Anyway, body. Ditch." 

Pete sneaks a glance at Ryan who shrugs helplessly. 

"Okay, got it." 

"Good. Now, pray tell, why the hell did you kiss my best friend?! I mean seriously. Out of the blue, unprecedented, bordering on sexual assault." 

Pete's voice has left him as he stares uncomprehending at the phone. This is not good.

"Anything to say for yourself?!" 

"Uh, no." 

Something that sounds like a mixture of a sigh and a groan comes from Joe and Pete winces. Then he hears the very quiet voice in the background who seems to be trying to calm Joe down. Patrick. Pete grins in spite of himself. 

"Now I've got the rage over and done with, I only have one thing to say. Well, two things." 

Pete gulps and Ryan pats him on the head reassuringly.

"One, you're an asshole and you really should keep your lips to yourself. Two, Patrick says you're a good kisser." 

Both sides of the line are silent for a moment before Pete can hear Patrick yelling, 

"You motherfu-" 

and Joe hanging up. 

"Well." 

Ryan rolls his eyes at the smug smile on Pete's face and smacks his friend on the shoulder. 

"Apart from the fact that Trohman wants to kill you, everything's fine."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm really sick of this fic, sorry, this is just a quick finish-off. Hope it's not too bad!

'Meet me in the music room at lunch.' 

Patrick finds the post-it note stuck to his locker and he puzzles over it for a moment before noticing the sign-off: PW. Ah. Well. This could go two ways, he thinks. Either Pete will bash his head in and make him promise not to tell anyone about the Bathroom Incident (as Joe has affectionately titled the kiss two days ago) or... something else. Something that makes the butterflies in Patrick's stomach flap their stupid-ass wings and make him smile. He'll go, he decides. Patrick's pretty sure Wentz isn't going to hit him. 

~~~

"Um, Brendon, Gabe? Can I talk to you, y'know, privately? Like, now?" 

Pete's nervous, something that doesn't happen often- at least not when he's around other people. 

"Sure, Pete!" 

"Yeah, what is it?" 

The dark haired teen practically drags his friends outside and sits down heavily on the spiky grass.

"You know how Ashlee and I broke up a while back?"

"Yeah?" 

Brendon and Gabe exchange confused glances. Pete doesn't talk about his ex- ever. The breakup was, should we say, somewhat messy. 

"I kinda never told you guys why. Um, I'm gay. I like boys." 

It's stunningly silent for a few moments, Pete wincing slightly and preparing himself for the backlash that's surely about to occur. Surprising, however, Brendon just shrugs and Gabe lets out a sigh of relief. 

"Cool, bro. I thought so, it's good to know I'm right." 

Pete shoots his friend a shocked glance. 

"Bren, you're cool with it?" 

"Yeah, sure. I mean, I like girls, but hey, I've thought about it. All fine with me." 

"And you, Gabe?" 

The tall youth lets out a slightly embarrassed laugh and nods hurriedly. 

"Ha, yeah. Hey, you know that Beckett kid? I've had a crush on him for what seems like forever but haven't had the guts to tell you guys." 

"Ooh!" 

Pete bumps his friend playfully and grins, his relief making him almost dizzy with happiness. 

"You two would be hella cute." 

One hurdle down. Now comes the hard part, what Pete had been in part dreading and anticipating since he put that note on Patrick's locker: meeting up with the blond boy and trying to talk out what the hell is happening between them. If there is anything, huh, Pete thinks pessimistically as a bit of a dark cloud settles over his thoughts. Maybe this is just a terrible idea. Maybe he shouldn't go... but then Patrick would think it was just some stupid prank to make him look stupid. And the last thing Pete wants is to hurt Patrick anymore.

~~~

"H-hello? Anyone in here?" 

Patrick creeps as quietly as he can into the dim classroom, his voice a hesitant whisper. Please, he prays. Please don't let this be some stupid set up. 

"W-wentz?" 

There's no response, so, heart sinking, the blond boy turns to leave before a quiet voice makes him pause. 

"Hey, Patrick." 

Scaring him half to death, Pete emerges quite dramatically from the shadows and has to stop himself from laughing at Patrick's surprised squeak. He's rewarded with a grin. 

"H-hey Wentz. Um, what d-did you want to talk a-about?" 

"Um..." 

Wentz trails off nervously and gestures distractedly for a few moments before smiling awkwardly at Patrick. 

"Uh..." 

Well, what has he got to lose? Pete obviously hasn't just set this up as a joke. He looks genuinely nervous, Patrick thinks, so he gathers his courage and steps forward, pressing his lips to those of the dark haired boy. Pete lets out a muffled sound of surprise before kissing back harder. He is quite a nice kisser, some vague part of Patrick's mind registers. It's a shame and quite a surprise to Patrick when Wentz breaks the kiss and gently pushes him away, eyes full of regret and resolve. 

"We can't do this, Patrick. You can't do this to yourself." 

"Wait, what?" 

The blond teen is confused. And here he was thinking... 

"I like you... a lot. You probably guessed that. But all I've ever done is hurt you and if we do... this..." 

Not quite sure what to do with his hands, Pete gestures uselessly and sighs. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked to meet you. I should've just left you alone and... yeah." 

Patrick opens his mouth to argue back, that no, it'll work out and they can forget all the crap that's happened, but Pete cuts him off. 

"I destroy everything I touch, okay? I screw up fucking everything and I've screwed you up enough." 

"Oh, s-shut up." 

Wentz falls silent at Patrick's command. 

"Y-you've hurt me a l-lot, sure. B-but it's okay. I forgive you." 

A smile on his face, Patrick steps forward again and kisses the surprised boy in front of him. Giving up on any thought of arguing (because PatrickPatrickPatrick is all he can think) and returns the kiss. It feels like hours, standing their together, but must only be minutes, because all of a sudden the lights are turning on and a surprised Miss Yao along with the rest of Pete and Patrick's music class are staring at the pair. They break apart at the surprised noises and laughter coming from the group. 

"Ay, Patrick!" 

Gerard yells the encouragement loudly and, to the surprise of Pete and Patrick, begins to clap. Frank joins in with a slightly bemused grin and before they now it, the class erupts into applause. Blushing at the attention but a grin on his face anyway, Patrick meets Pete's eyes. 

"We'll be fine."


End file.
